


Slow Day

by tobiyos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Smoking, copious use of shojo manga tropes, punk bad boy iwai and tiny high school nerd maruki, technically not an au they're just younger, what is the opposite of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: Iwai twirls the cigarette in his fingers. “Do you smoke?”That makes Takuto glance up, then, the gloomy look on his face clearing for confusion. “Excuse me?”“Smoke,” Mune repeats, pushing past Takuto to stand at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. “Do you smoke?”--Iwai tries to get Maruki to lighten up.
Relationships: Iwai Munehisa/Maruki Takuto
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Slow Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back on my Maruki/Iwai kick and I was thinking about them in high school and it just kinda... yeah...

Mune thinks school is a bunch of bullshit. 

A lot of things are a bunch of bullshit, but school really is just the crux of dull nonsense with no real purpose, or, as far as he’s concerned, no real end goal. Between the useless classes and the useless socializing and the useless fucking hours he spends wasting away at a desk, Mune could be _doing_ something. _Anything_.

Mune’s tendency to hate his classes goes hand in hand with his tendency to skip school, though as much as the temptation is there, he really prefers not to. His uncle will get on his ass when he remembers to care, and lectures are about as close to Mune’s thing as school is on its own. Hard Pass.

He hears the bell from the boys’ bathroom, hunched over the sink with the borderline leaky faucet. It only drips a few times an hour, and Mune has never really known if that makes it more or less annoying when it manages to hit the basin with a splash.

One of his teachers is shouting through the walls; Mune’s reflection needs a haircut. Mune’s reflection always needs a haircut. He sighs and taps his face in the mirror, before he’s off for the door, hand twitching for the near empty cigarette pack in his pocket. There’re only two cigarettes left, and he doesn’t have the patience to try and sneak off campus for more. Maybe he can ask Tsuda, but that’s only a viable option if that idiot is feeling particularly gracious this afternoon.

He’s so busy agonizing over his dwindling smokes he almost misses the voices around the corner that echo out of the staircase. Damn, does he have a lighter on him?

“—come on, not even for us?”

“I really don’t think I should, i-it’s better for you to get through the material yourself—"

Mune slides the end of his cigarette between his teeth and pats around his lighter with a grunt. Where the hell _is_ that thing? Tsuda is going to kill him if he lost their one good lighter—

“Thought we were _buddies_ , Taku—“

“Hey,” Iwai sighs, sliding the edge of the corner. “Can you idiots keep it down?”

There are four students on the stairs, unrecognizable faces Mune knows he’ll forget the second they’re out of sight. They’re _loud_ though, and he probably wouldn’t care to get involved if they could just keep their voices down. It’s a slow day. Mune would like to have a _slow day._

“The fuck is your problem?” the tallest one snaps. Mune squints. He looks like a third year. Could probably still snap one of his arms like a twig. “Ever heard of minding your own business?”

“Ever heard of shutting the hell up for once?” Mune grunts. He tilts his head to the side when the little mousey one squeaks and takes a shuddering step back. Mune slides his cigarette out of his mouth and twirls it around his fingers. “You pickin’ on the first years?”

“We’re his _friends_ ,” one of the lackey’s coos. “Ain’t that right, Takuto?”

“Yeah, um, sure. Can I go?”

“Shut it,” the tall one snaps.

Mune makes eye contact with the frightened first-year—Takuto, his brain supplies—and he tucks his cigarette back into his pocket with a sigh. “Got some balls causin’ trouble with no witnesses out here,” he grumbles, hopping the steps two at a time.

“What, you think you’re some kinda hot—“

The sound the kid’s face makes when Mune slams his fist into the side of his jaw is, all things considered, a little satisfying. He goes down like a bitch though, whining and moaning, _my face, my face you fucker,_ but he’s roughed up enough that his friends don’t do much but scramble to hoist him onto their shoulders with a snarl. Mune’s not big on violence—sometimes—but he has neither the time nor the patience to de-escalate some bullshit on a Thursday afternoon.

“Fuck off,” Mune sighs, rolling his shoulder as he cracks his knuckles. “I’m supposed to be on my best behavior today, y’know?”

All it takes is another curl of his fingers before they’re scampering down the stairs with conspiratorial whispers, hurried, unintelligible snaps in his direction.

“You alright?” Mune asks Takuto, shaking out the ache in his hand. That tall kid was unnecessarily bony, and Mune isn’t excited to have another bruise to explain to his uncle.

Takuto nods, and then folds in on himself in a bow. “Thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mune says, and fishes around in his pocket for his cigarette. “You got a lighter on you, kid?”

“U-um,” Takuto stammers out, eyes going wide behind his boxy glasses. He’s got a babyface—big expressive eyebrows. The glasses slide on his nose when they move like they’re too big on him. “Y-yeah, on my keys. Just in case.”

Mune hums. “That’s nice. You’re not hurt by the way, are you? ‘cause those little punks look like they couldn’t do jack shit when it comes down to it.”

“No, um,” Takuto crosses and then uncrosses his arms nervously. “I’m fine.”

Iwai hums again. “Want me to take you to the nurse?”

“No.”

“Want me to walk you back to class?”

“...no.”

Iwai twirls the cigarette in his fingers. “Do you smoke?”

That makes Takuto glance up, then, the gloomy look on his face clearing for confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Smoke,” Mune repeats, pushing past Takuto to stand at the bottom of the next flight. “Do you smoke?”

Takuto glances down at the cigarette, and then up at Mune, his face catching the light dipping in through the window. His eyes are big and dark behind the glasses, but the sunlight brightens them in a burst of gold for a moment.

“No,” he admits quietly.

“Do you want to?” Mune asks. Takuto glances down the stairs and then nods. “Come on then,” Mune says, and climbs up to the third floor, pushing past the door onto the roof.

“Isn’t this... off limits?” Takuto asks, glancing at the flipped sign on the door. Mune doesn’t even remember what it says at this point, but the intent is pretty clear. _No students, no access._

“So is smoking,” Mune says, turning to slide his back down the wall. “You always this nervous?”

“‘m not nervous,” Takuto huffs, even though he’s sitting stiffer than a board at Mune’s side. “This kinda thing is just... new for me, is all.”

Mune snorts. “New for you.” 

When he glances over, Takuto is staring resolutely down at his crossed legs, the hands in his lap balled up in tight fists. “Not all of us can just skip classes to punch people... uh...”

“Mune.”

“Mune,” Takuto huffs. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins, and it makes him look even more slight than he already is.

A cool breeze hits the roof, sending a chill crawling up Mune’s spine. He lets himself shake, and rolls his head on his shoulders. “This how you thank every person that saves your ass?”

“No,” Takuto pouts. And then he adds, quieter, “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Mune says with a shrug. “You still got that lighter on you?”

Takuto nods and reaches into the pocket of his uniform jacket to pull out a dull blue lighter, plain and slightly worn.

Mune spins his cigarette between two fingers as Takuto fiddles with the lighter, obviously unused to the way it flicks to life. He gets it eventually, with a pleased little exhale, and Mune leans forward until the end of the cigarette catches the flame, a hand coming up to shield the burning paper from the wind.

His mouth fills with cigarette smoke, the rolling paper sliding across his bottom lip, and Mune chances a glance up at Takuto, finding him staring wide eyed as Mune pulls the cigarette from between his teeth to blow smoke into his face. “Got a staring problem, sweetheart?”

“N-no!” Takuto yelps, fumbling with the lighter for a second. Mune tips his head as cheeks turn pink, Takuto’s eyes falling behind the sweep of his curls. “Sorry, um. Sorry.”

“Ain’t gotta apologize,” Mune chuckles, leaning back against the wall with another drag of his cigarette. “Do you think I bite?”

“Maybe,” Takuto mumbles, and startles a laugh out of Mune.

“Cute,” Mune snorts, lips going back around the cigarette. More color comes into Takuto’s face, but Mune decides he’d rather spare him, and tips his head back to blow smoke up at the sky.

 _Slow day,_ he thinks luxuriously, watching the clouds roll by in the blue sky. His uncle’s shop brings him home late in the evenings, so Mune’s probably got a solid few hours of dicking around after school before he’s subject to either a lecture or another request Mune come join him at the shop for once. He would, quite literally, rather die.

“I’m going to... apologize again,” Takuto announces, and Mune rolls his head to the side to see him staring resolutely at the ground.

“What—“

“I’m sorry you had to come help me,” Takuto rushes out. “This isn’t a... regular thing. I mean, it’s an _occasional_ thing, but it’s not... that bad. It’s a nuisance, at worst.”

Mune grunts around a lungful of cigarette smoke. “What were those guys doin’ anyway?”

“Oh,” Takuto breathes, squirming slightly. “They, um, try to get me to do their homework. I don’t mind, sometimes, with English and stuff, but now they want my help cheating on tests.” He sighs. “I think I knew it was going to get worse, but I’d already dealt with it long enough. I guess it was just wistful thinking to hope they’d lay off the closer we got to graduation.”

Mune glances at the side of his face in the sun, the short eyelashes fanning over his round cheeks. Takuto looks smart, sure, but Mune’s never really gotten the whole cheating schtick. If you’re fucking up before you’re out of high school, you’re not on the fast track anywhere good, in Mune’s book. No amount of harassing pretty boys is going to change that.

Takuto meets his eye and then glances away hurriedly, curling in tighter on himself. “You don’t have to concern yourself with me.” He clears his throat. “That’s all I was saying.”

Mune taps his ashes off on the concrete and sucks in a breath of fresh air. “What if I want to?” he asks, the cold tingling against his lungs.

“Huh?” Takuto yelps. “I just... you don’t have to think you need to _protect me_ or something—“

“Didn’t say I was gonna protect you,” Mune sighs. He reaches up and scratches at the side of his neck. “Not gonna stop me being worried, though. You look kinda... delicate.”

Takuto puffs up indignantly. “I am not _delicate_ —“

“Sorry, sorry.” Mune waves his hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. I, uh,” he twirls the cigarette around his finger. “I’d feel kinda shitty if I just let that happen to you, ‘s the thing. It’s not fair those guys pick on you just ‘cause you’re small ‘n stuff. Upperclassman are supposed to look out for you guys.”

“I—“ Takuto starts, blinking. “I’m a third year.”

“Oh.” Mune can feel his own face turning red now, embarrassed. “Sorry, shit, uh—“

“It’s fine,” Takuto mumbles. “I’m used to it.” He tips his head back with a sigh, and Mune catches the glint of his glasses. “I know I don’t look like much.”

“I like—“ Mune starts, cut off when Takuto turns to him with those same, dark eyes. He clears his throat and tries not to look away. “I like how you look,” he admits.

Takuto blinks, and blushes, and Mune finally has to break the eye contact with a cough as his own face heats back. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Mune croaks. He takes another drag from his cigarette and taps more ashes on the ground. Takuto looks apprehensive, and he’s squirming like he’s uncomfortable, and Mune thinks it’s kind of—ridiculously—adorable.

“You wanna try?” he asks, cigarette held out.

“Oh,” Takuto says airily. “I don’t know, it’s really bad for your lungs.”

“I’m not gonna force you,” Mune says, even as he watches Takuto’s fingers twitch for the lighter. “Ain’t gonna call you a... tightass or some shit. I know it’s not for everybody.”

He doesn’t want Takuto to think he’s peer pressuring him or something, but he looks too damn _stiff_ , and Mune would really like him to just mellow out a bit. Take it easy.

Mune extends the hand with the cigarette towards him, and Takuto’s eyes flick over uncertainly. He’s about to tell him to forget about it, that it’s fine, really, but Takuto tips forward gently, lips wrapping around the yellow filter at the end of the cigarette.

Mune’s breath catches when Takuto’s eyes flick up, shadows spiderwebbing across his cheeks from the sun. “Like this?” he asks, voice soft and breath warm against Mune’s fingers.

If it were Tsuda, Mune would say something scathing, would have no problem pushing him away by the forehead and telling him to fuck off. But Takuto blinks, and Mune lets go of a shaky exhale, tilting Takuto’s chin up with the fingers he’s not using to support the cigarette.

“Like that,” Mune whispers, watching Takuto inch closer to alleviate the strain on his neck. “Go slow.”

When Takuto inhales, Mune shivers, and tries to hold the cigarette still as Takuto breathes, breathes, breathes—

And then coughs so hard his eyes start watering.

“You’re not supposed to _inhale_ it,” Mune laughs, leaning over to pat Takuto on the back as he hacks up smoke.

“You did _not_ tell me that,” Takuto wheezes. Mune pats him on the back until the tears in his eyes clear, even if the ruddy flush stays.

“Wanna try again?” Mune asks, lifting the cigarette to his own lips.

Takuto frowns and it presses his eyebrows together, his nose scrunching slightly. “Can you... Can I see you do it first?” he asks.

Mune glances down at his legs with a shrug. “Sure.”

He can feel Takuto’s eyes on him as he touches his mouth to the cigarette again, and he fully expects the way his heart picks up in his chest at the proximity. What he’s doesn’t, though, is the way Takuto leans forward, captivated, as Mune sucks in a breath, cigarette loose between his fingers. He barely even responds when Mune blows smoke in his face again, save for the endearing little wrinkle in his nose when the smell hits him.

Mune barks out a laugh and inches closer, his arm pressing against the long line at Takuto’s shoulder. “You wanna try again?” he asks, with an incline of his head.

“I don’t know,” Takuto admits.

Mune hums. “What _do_ you know?”

“Not nearly enough, it seems.”

Takuto isn’t looking in his eyes, which Mune only notices when he chances to glance away from the little jut of his top lip. He’s barely breathing when his finger goes under Takuto’s chin again with a sigh.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” Takuto breathes, somehow managing to sound wholly unapologetic. His gaze jumps up Mune’s face, away from his mouth, and between his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers again, and leans in.

Takuto’s lips are soft, Mune can tell, even as they barely touch his. It could be a mistake, a slip of Takuto’s hand—even against the concrete—or a miscalculation from the sun in his eyes. Mune kind of hopes it isn’t, even as Takuto pulls away with a shiver and a flutter of his eyelashes.

“Is _that_ how you thank everybody who saves you?” he asks.

“Shut up,” Takuto huffs, and leans up to press their mouths together again.

It’s a slow thing, soft, Mune’s fingers under Takuto’s jaw as he kisses back in a stilted, kind of hesitant way. This close, Mune can feel the gentle give of his lips and the cigarette smoke lingering on his skin, and he’s too greedy to stop himself from pressing forward when Takuto shivers again with a sigh.

There’s a hand that comes to rest at the center of Mune’s chest, splayed flat against his jackrabbit heartbeat under the uniform shirt. Takuto slips his other hand around to the side of Mune’s neck and pushes up onto his knees, high enough that Mune can reach his waist, slender under the calluses on the surface of his skin.

“Relax,” he murmurs, when he gets a glance at Takuto’s tensed face.

“I’m... I’m trying,” Takuto gasps. “I don’t... I’ve never...”

“ _Relax_ ,” Mune repeats. He drops his hold on Takuto’s face to slide his fingers up the wrist at his chest, and just barely brushes their lips together before he’s pulling away again. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to do.”

“Right,” Takuto breathes, eyes still shut as another breeze carries across the rooftop. It ruffles his hair, and Mune plucks the glasses off of his nose to set beside his hip without turning away.

This time, Mune leans in with a quiet, breathy sound, waiting for the way Takuto gently squeezes at his shoulder, mouth parting when Mune seals their lips together again.

Takuto squirms a little, like a bird with a pinned wing, and Mune does his best not to push, following the pace Takuto sets slowly, experimentally. He jumps a bit when Takuto nips at his bottom lip, and sighs at the slow slide of his tongue and the way Takuto’s hands crawl absentmindedly up his chest.

Mune hums and pulls him closer, immediately floored when a gentle tug on Takuto’s waist has him throwing a leg over Mune’s hip and hovering above his lap.

“Okay?” Mune asks, drawing away to see how Takuto breathes through parted lips.

“Okay,” he affirms, leaning in to brush their mouths together again gently.

Mune presses a hand to the small of his back, and feels his mouth twitch when Takuto shivers, before he tugs gently at Takuto’s button up and gets it free from the tuck into his pants. His skin is warm against Mune’s cold fingertips, and the first press of their skin together has Takuto jumping in his lap, hands squeezing tighter at Mune’s shoulders.

“Ah—“ Takuto gasps, leaning down to bury his face in the side of Mune’s neck.

“Should I stop?” Mune asks, face pressed against the side of Takuto’s head. His curls are soft.

“N-no,” Takuto breathes. “You don’t—you don’t have to stop.”

Mune kind of wants to kiss him again, but he settles for running his hands up the smooth plane of Takuto’s back, and then down over his shoulder blades, mapping out the muscles in his spine.

He’s as wiry under his clothes as he is above them, and Mune can feel him gasping against his shoulder, the hands on Mune’s shoulders tensing intermittently.

“Takuto,” Mune murmurs, and Takuto sits up with a breath, eyes big and unfocused and clear, now that they’re not obscured by his glasses.

“Mune, I—“ 

They both jump when the bell rings, Mune’s nails catching on Takuto’s back for a moment as he pulls them out of his shirt. “I have to go to class,” Takuto gasps, smacking around on the ground for his glasses.

Mune finds them without looking, and slides the black frames over Takuto’s nose with a hum. “Stay?”

Takuto’s eyes widen, and his face flushes. “I... can’t,” he whispers, hands going back to Mune’s chest. “I don’t want to miss anymore class—i-if they call my parents—“

“God, we’ve got to get you to lighten up,” Mune mutters, leaning in to kiss the side of Takuto’s mouth. His eyes flutter shut like it’s instinct, voice catching. “It’s okay. Go to class.”

Takuto blinks his eyes open when he realizes he’s not going to get another kiss, before the hands on Mune’s chest uncurl. “Um,” he says quietly. “After school, though. If you want—“

“I’ll meet you at the front gate,” Mune says, hands finding Takuto’s.

“Okay,” he breathes, hesitating for a second. Mune doesn’t expect the way he leans in one last time to press a hard, final kiss to his mouth before he clamors to his feet.

“I’ll meet you,” Takuto states, more like he’s informing himself than Mune.

Mune watches him adjust his shirt, before he’s off in a whirlwind, the door creaking as it’s thrown open and Takuto’s feet retreating down the stairwell. Well, so much for a slow day. At least he has something to look forward to, now.

Mune reaches into his pocket and pulls out a new cigarette, before another cold wind catches the roof.

Ah, right. No lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was originally a thread on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos) (though it's a little rougher without the extra editing) but if you wanna see other stuff I'm writing before it's on ao3 come say hi! I don't bite uh on purpose


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